A Bottle of Wine
by YesIEatQuiche
Summary: A delve deeper into the rather amusing argument between Mrs. Bennet and the young Lucas boy that occurs at the end of volume one, chapter 5. Rated T for some drinking of wine. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing; not even dear Mrs. Bennet.**

**Enjoy!**

A Bottle of Wine

Young Fitzwilliam Lucas was regarded throughout Longbourn and Meryton as a pleasant lad, though perhaps a bit too rambunctious. He was not his father's child; his mere eleven years had been sufficient to prove that. While he possessed the majority of Sir William's courteous manners, Fitzwilliam had not his father's complacency. Rather, there was in him such aspiration that Lady Lucas could not help mentioning dear Fitz to Mrs. Bennet at least twice a day. It was Lady Lucas' hope, and her husband's, that young Fitzwilliam would provide for his older sisters, should they not have the good fortune to marry.

Though the Lucases intimate neighbors, the Bennets, had no sons for Mr. Lucas to play with, young Fitzwilliam enjoyed the pleasure of calling on them with his sisters Charlotte and Maria occasionally. The day after the Meryton assembly Mrs. Lucas allowed Fitzwilliam to join the ladies, at his request, as he was so distraught at not having been allowed to attend the assembly. Fitzwilliam was most pleased with his mother's new decision and expressed himself by running on ahead of Charlotte and Maria, as is customary with boys of that age, to which the former exclaimed "Not so fast, Fitz!"

Upon arriving, the Lucases were directed into the Bennet's drawing room. The sole person not present was Mr. Bennet, who was presumably hiding in his library. Mary was flipping through her piano pieces; Kitty and Lydia were alternatively whispering and giggling rather loudly; Jane mending Lydia's old bonnet; Elizabeth, with book in hand, was smiling knowingly at Jane; and Mrs. Bennet was welcoming the Lucases, in her own way.

"Hello Charlotte, Maria, Fitzwilliam! I suppose you are here about the assembly. I myself have not had much time to think about it – my poor nerves – but I know you must be wanting to share your little stories. Now that you mention it (for I never would dream of it myself), did not you think Mr. Bingley showed an uncommon interest in our Jane?"

Sometime during this the Bennet ladies all looked up and acknowledged the visitors. Fitzwilliam returned Elizabeth's greeting with a broad smile – she had always been a bit of a favorite of his.

From then on the conversation drifted into the topic of the previous night's festivities. There were dances to be recounted, partners to be assessed, and conversations to be recalled. Fitzwilliam was not inclined to listen – it depressed his spirits to discover what exactly he had missed.

Very soon Mr. Darcy was the subject of conversation. Despite Fitzwilliam's previous inclination, his curiosity was aroused, and he subsequently ceased to ignore the ladies' raptures.

"…and I could easily forgive _his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_," Elizabeth was saying.

Fitzwilliam was torn in his feelings towards the man in question. Mr. Darcy had slighted his Elizabeth, which was insupportable. If he had but been there to defend her honor! But Fitzwilliam had begun to admire the man from what he had previously heard of him. Fitzwilliam trusted one day, he too, would be a Darcy of the world, with ten thousand a year.

Being so caught up in conflicting thoughts, the young Mr. Lucas missed the whole of Mary's monologue. He caught but a few words: "Pride…failing…pride…proud…pride." He gathered she was speaking of pride and Mr. Darcy. An idea came to him.

When it seemed Mary was done (he was courteous, you see, like his father) Fitzwilliam spoke his mind. "If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy," he cried, "I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day." Pleased with himself, he made to sit back down for he had jumped up in the excitement of letting his thoughts be known.

But Mrs. Bennet would not have this. "Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said the lady; "and if I were to see you at it I should take away your bottle directly."

"No, ma'am, I daresay you should not," Fitzwilliam countered.

"What nonsense, Fitzwilliam, I declare it that I would, and your mother would agree with me!"

"But Mrs. Bennet –"

"No! I declare it. Those who know me should realize how serious my declarations are."

Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a glance. It was time to end the conversation before the two people in question became too excited. The last time an argument of such scale took place, the outcome was not favorable to either side.

"Mama," Jane soothed, "Tell us again what Mrs. Long told you about what Mr. Bingley said of country dances."

This was introduction enough.

"Well Jane, he declared that country dances are much pleasanter than town dances. I daresay he is in the right for saying so, for though I have never much been in town, the people of the country are infinitely better bred."

"Dear Maria," exclaimed Kitty, "did you hear about the officers that are to come to Meryton?"

"Oh! I had not."

"Yes," Lydia continued, "we are most excited. For at the assembly last night there was a definite lack of good looking men, right Kitty? Aside from Bingley, there was no one else to look at. That is, after Mr. Darcy was found out to be so proud –"

"Oh! Lydia do not mention that odious man in front of me!" cried Mrs. Bennet.

But Fitzwilliam would not have his hero be termed odious, and their previous argument resumed.

"I do not see what is so wrong with a rich man doing as he pleases. Mr. Darcy –"

"Oh! do not speak of that man in my house; he vexes me so! I pray you do not become half as rich as he, if it will stop you from becoming a drunkard."

"Mr. Darcy is by no means a drunkard and neither shall I be! And I shall be twice as rich as he – we share the same Christian name."

"Ah my poor nerves shrivel at the mention of that proud man!"

"If I may say so, he has a right to his pride Mrs. Bennet, and his wine!"

"I daresay they should not sell wine to men of large fortunes! It brings nothing of ill – "

"That has nothing at all to do with –"

"And you will never drink so much as a drop of wine each day, much less a bottle –"

"Why –"

"I shall take the bottle away, I daresay –"

"You shan't Mrs. Bennet, you shan't –"

The quarrel had only been allowed to persist once more because the entirety of the room was in a bustle. Jane was calming Mrs. Bennet while Elizabeth was assisting Maria and Charlotte in the gathering of their shawls. Soon Fitzwilliam was being hurried out the door by a frantic Elizabeth. Only with the end of the visit did the argument come to a close.

* * *

It was the night of the Netherfield ball, and Fitzwilliam had scarcely been so excited in his entire life. After slight persuasion, he had been allowed to join half the town for an evening of dancing, cards, and of course, wine. He believed that Jane had recommended him to Mr. Bingley who in turn invited him to the ball along with the eldest daughters of the family. His mother had not the fortitude or inclination to disappoint a man of Bingley's consequence; Thus, Fitzwilliam was obliged to attend the ball.

Young Fitzwilliam had been nursing a hope that he might dance with Elizabeth sometime during the course of the evening. For though he was a good deal shorter than most of her other suitors, he had been practicing the art with Maria all week. Mama said his dancing was charming while Papa declared it was capital.

It was altogether a delightful evening. Though Elizabeth had been forced to dance with her cousin for the first two dances, an officer for the third, and Mr. Darcy (of all people!) for the fourth, Fitzwilliam secured her well-sought hand for the fifth dance. Fitzwilliam was delighted at her condescending to dance with a person ten years her junior, and though the couple earned a few confused glances, both enjoyed themselves immensely. Fitzwilliam even had the pleasure of hearing he was infinitely more agreeable than Mr. Darcy.

During supper, Fitzwilliam found himself seated near his mother, and consequently near Mrs. Bennet. The two discussed Jane's prospects openly and quite freely, as if no one else could chance upon hearing them.

"Yes, I fully expect that Jane shall be soon married to Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet was assuring Lady Lucas. "I am greatly overjoyed, though I would expect nothing less of my beautiful Jane. The match is so favorable – Mr. Bingley being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from us. I congratulate myself."

Here Mrs. Bennet took a short pause to take a sip of her wine, and then – as if truly congratulating herself – to down the entire glass.

"And let me assure you, it is such a comfort to think how fond his two sisters are of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as myself."

As some courteous servant had refilled her wine glass, she quickly finished that too.

"It is, moreover, such a promising thing for my younger daughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men!"

Here Mrs. Bennet barely caught her breath and quenched her never-ending thirst.

"Lastly, it is so pleasant at my time of life to be able to consign my single daughters to the care of their sister, so that I might not be obliged to go into company more than I like. For as both of us are aware, I abhor excessive company. I only wish, Lady Lucas, that you might soon be equally fortunate as I am."

Though Elizabeth tried to halt her mother's rapid tongue, it was in vain. Mrs. Bennet would not be silenced on so animating a topic. Thus Elizabeth could only sit and blush for her mother's thoughtless words.

Fitzwilliam, who had been silently observing the whole of the conversation, sensed he was needed. Elizabeth should not be embarrassed by her closest relations. With resolution, Fitzwilliam stood and strolled over to Mrs. Bennet's chair.

The sight of her neighbor's child walking toward her with so determined an air caught Mrs. Bennet slightly off guard and silenced her.

When young Fitzwilliam reached her seat he grabbed the half empty glass of wine. With the vivacity of one who has just proved his point, he declared, "No, Mrs. Bennet, you would not!"

And without further ado Fitzwilliam finished off his first (but by no means last) glass of wine, much to the amusement of a Miss Elizabeth Bennet – on whom the conclusion of the previous quarrel was not lost.

**Well I hope that you found this enjoyable if not entirely pointless. **

**I was about to name the Lucas boy "George". Fail (starwars style). **

**Does anyone know why Mrs. Lucas is referred to just as Lady Lucas with no Christian name included? Lady Catherine de Bourgh, of course is different…I suspect it has something to do with Sir William Lucas' knighthood. Hmmm…anyone out there who knows the answer? **

**Reviews make me happy ^_^**

**~YIEQ**

**PS for those who might care: this is my **_**seven**_**th fanfic. For those who don't: seven is the most powerful wizarding number **


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